bright purse

A Girl Worth Fighting For- 19 (End)

Summary: When your brother is drafted into WWII, you do the unthinkable to save him and your family: you take his place, in secret. Bucky x Reader, based on Disney’s Mulan.

Words: a lot idfk
Warnings: none?

Author’s Note: Oh geez guys. I just gotta say thank you all so much for reading, for the messages and comments, and I hope you’re all happy with chapter 20. ❤️❤️😘

Tags moved to end.
Masterlist   Part 18

Originally posted by jeweljessicajones

Peggy Carter was tired. The past ten years had taken their toll on her, showing in the gentle age lines on her face and the slight slump in her shoulders. She carried herself with dignity, head held high as her heels tapped lightly on the tiles. A few familiar faces passed her with small smiles or nods of acknowledgement which she returned, clutching a briefcase in her hands.

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Come Rain or Come Shine - 2/3

The second part written for #sexlaughterhonesty week.

  • Rating: E
  • Pairing: Fenris/Female Hawke
  • Tags: NSFW, happy sex, fluff
  • AO3 Link: Click Here
  • Summary: A series of snippets about Fenris and Hawke giving each other some much needed love.

“Ah. Mm.” A hand winds into a length of vine and root, knuckles white and holding far too tightly. Teeth at her bottom lip, biting hard with eyes closed and head tilting back. A strand of hair crosses her face, but she pays it no mind. Other hand at his shoulder, sliding over skin. A bare leg is wrapped around his waist. The other still in an armored boot, holding hostage her pants. That one keeps lower, against the back of his leg. His hands underneath her thighs, holding her tightly, rubbing his nose against her cheek. Listening to her breathe, the small mewling noises she’s trying to hide.

Her hand moves up his shoulder, to his neck. Fingers play with the loose wisps of hair at his nape. His breastplate lies with her gauntlet and the armored piece that holds her hood. The remains of an attempt to undress, evidence of their distraction. They’ve found a small nook by the river, built into that cliff. Underneath a willow tree, the last light of day filtering through the leaves, reflecting on the water. Gentle rain beginning to fall, the lightest of things. Birds in distant branches, chattering to each other. The crickets are beginning to call their song, matching harmonies with the frogs hiding in the reeds. All interrupted by a simple, “ah! Ow. Fuck.”

“What is it – Did I–?”

“No, no. Rock in my backside.”

“Did you want to stop?”

“Maker, no! This is the first time we’ve managed to be alone for ages. I’m not letting that go to waste,” she says. Wriggling her hips until the rock slips free, wrapping her arms around his neck. Running a hand through his hair, pulling him into a kiss. Teeth nipping at his lip, tongue taking advantage of his surprise.

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A Head, A Heart, & A Crown {Biadore} Chapter 14 -C*NT

A/N: I’m going to say this in the beginning so that I don’t forget AGAIN, THANK YOU to my wonderful beta trixies-padding for beta'ing this incredibly long chapter for me! This was by far the hardest chapter i’ve written so far, I really struggled with this one because I wanted to get everything just right and I got severely blocked. This is 13,000+ words of the finale, and some stuff afterwards. Witney makes an appearance as well as the tiniest slice of Shalaska. We are nearing the end of this story which is making me so sad. TW: Alcohol consumption, drunk antics. I hope that’s it. Enjoy!

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Invisibility P.2

Part Two: Coffee Stains

Author: @jkqueenly

Spencer Reid may be a genius, but sometimes things just fly over his head. Good thing he has Morgan to help him out.

-_-_-_-_-_

“Hey Reid, you alright?” Morgan asked, entering the elevator between Spencer and Penelope.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He was looking at his coffee cup again, fascinated by the numbers there. He’d already solved the equation, multiple times in fact. The new puzzle though was Why? Why did she leave this equation? What did the number 7,155,553,165 have to do with her? There were many things it could mean. Statistically speaking–

“Looks like an interesting coffee, where’d you get that?” Morgan interrupted, bumping Spencer on the shoulder.

The surprise motion made Dr. Reid jump and coffee spilled all down his shirt and bag. “Ach!” Spencer hissed, trying brush the hot liquid away from his body.

“Oh man, Reid. I’m sorry kid.”

“Derek!” Penelope cried. She swatted him gently.

“It was an accident!” Morgan defended. “I’ll buy him a new one when we head out today.”

“What? Oh no, it’s ok, I’m fine,“ Reid said, blushing slightly.

“What are the numbers for?” Penelope asked, handing over some napkins from the bottom of her bright pink purse.

“I’m not sure, the lady who made my coffee wrote it. It’s a fairly simple algebraic equation, but I’m not sure what the solution means.”

The elevator door opened and the group walked out into the hall towards the conference room. Through the glass doors they could see Hotch and Rossi talking over a file in front of Hotchner’s office.

“Solution?” JJ asked, joining the others as they entered the bull pen.

“I’m thinking somebody was trying to flirt with the good doctor here but he can’t figure out what she said,” said Morgan, smiling at Reid’s blush.

“No, I figured out what she said, I just don’t know what she meant,” Spencer explained.

“Well, what’d she say?” JJ asked, her curiosity growing.

“Seven billion, one hundred fifty five million, five hundred fifty three thousand, one hundred sixty five.”

Everyone paused at the large number. Not sure what to say next.

“Everyone ready? We’ve got another case,” Hotchner said, waving briefly with the file.

The new case was a bad one. Six deaths in three months crossing city lines. The team knew they didn’t have much time to find the unsub.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch dismissed.

Everyone left the round table, taking their files with them. Spencer walked to his desk to collect his go bag and a few notes on the area.

“Hey Reid,” Morgan said.

Spencer looked up.

“Write down the solution, I think I might have figured out what she meant.”

Spencer grabbed a pen and pulled a pad of paper closer, scribbling the solution onto the page. He looked at the numbers, biting his lip.

“Just what I thought,“ Morgan said, peaking over Reid’s shoulder.

“What?”

Morgan took the pen from Reid’s hand and added a few dashes instead of commas into the number making it read 715-555-3165. He laughed and patted Reid on the back. “She’s clever.”

“What do you mean?”

“She gave you her number, pretty boy.”

Originally posted by spencerreideuphoria

Natasha tries to cheer you up!- Natasha x Reader

When your baby wants fluff, you write fluff. Let’s see what Natasha would do if her girlfriend had a stressful day at work.

Natasha x Reader

Warning: shitty writing

Originally posted by perksofbeinganavengers

You could feel it in your feet… in your shoulders… the pain and stress ran rampant in your body. As the physical pain crept into your joints, you were at the brink of mental exhaustion. Your limit of human contact had be crushed All you wanted to do was lay in bed and become a human burrito with your blankets.

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Edmund x Reader: I kept my promise

Anonymous said: Hi! I know you’re bombarded with a lot of requests. But could I have an Edmund x reader where they make a bet, but as a joke y/n is like “I bet one cup of coffee that I’m right!” And anyway, she wins and thinks nothing more of it. But the next day, he comes by with her favorite drink from her fave coffee place and she’s kinda shocked and impressed and starts to like him. and maybe has an “oh crap I REALLY like him.”
Thanksssss. ❤️

~Okay. So. I actually wrote this entire thing Wednesday night on the plane, and then…I forgot to save it. I know. I’m an asshat. Hopefully this isn’t too terribly terrible, I wrote it again this afternoon. Modern AU💜~

“That guy. Over there. With the mullet.”

Edmund laughed into his coffee cup as he took a sip. “Well, he looks like an ax murderer, but I think he’s going to order…a cotton candy frappuchino.” You laughed quietly, smiling at him.

You loved this game. You and Edmund would come here every Saturday afternoon to drink your weight in coffee and people watch. Guessing people’s orders had become a sort of challenge, like the hunger games or the matrix. Well, maybe not exactly like the hunger games or the matrix.

“What about the girl with the bright pink purse?”

“Caramel Macchiato.”

“How are you so sure?” 

Edmund took another sip of his coffee. “She just looks like a caramel macchiato-y sort of person.” You raised an eyebrow. “Caramel macchiato-y sort of person?”

Edmund sighed, laughing again. “Whatever. Your turn.” He scanned the cafe. “Okay…the guy over there in the corner. What’s he going to order?”

You paused for a moment, looking at Edmund thoughtfully. Then, you spoke up. “I think he’s getting a simple iced coffee.” 

Edmund snorted. “A ‘simple iced coffee’? Where did you get that from?” 

You shrugged, running your hands along the sides of your coffee cup. “I don’t know.” You stopped moving your hands, smiling slyly. “But I bet one cup of coffee that I’m right.” Edmund raised his eyebrows, trying to look serious, but just collapsed in laughter. “You’re on, Caffeine Queen.” 

The man that was standing in the corner walked up to the counter, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. He hadn’t heard anything you were saying, as you spoke in hushed tones, but he probably didn’t like how you and Edmund kept looking over at him.

“Hello, I’d like an iced coffee please.” 

Your face turned pure white. You turned to Edmund slowly, ripping your eyes away from the counter. “I’m psychic.”

That was it. Edmund began to clutch the small table in laughter; The caffeine overload and strangeness of the situation was too much for him to bear. The man shot Edmund an annoyed look as he paid for his coffee and walked out of the shop. 

“Okay,” You said, laughing a little too and attempting to pull Edmund out of his chair, “Come on.” The barista looked at you sympathetically as she closed the register drawer. You smiled at her and dragged your friend out of the shop. 

“You’ve had too much caffeine, Ed.”


“Hello? Y/n?” 

You peaked your head out of the mountain of blankets surrounding you. Someone was at the door. You reluctantly stepped onto the hard, cold floorboards and made your way to the front door, blankets still wrapped around you. You peered out the peep-hole. 

“Y/n?”

 You jumped back immediately, breathing heavily and standing in front of the closed door. “Edmund, you scared the living shit out of me!” 

“Don’t talk about shit. It’ll make lose your appetite.” 

“Huh?”

“Well if I were you, I wouldn’t want to think about literal crap when I was taking a long, delicious sip of my favorite coffee.”

You unlatched the chain on the door. As you opened it, you revealed Edmund standing there with a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. “Oh my god, Ed!” He grinned.

  “Edmund, you didn’t have to do that for me.” You said, grabbing the cup eagerly.

 “We made a bet. I kept my promise.” 

“Yeah, but that didn’t mean you actually had to-please, come inside!” 

You moved to grab a chair from under the kitchen counter, smiling widely at Edmund. Edmund shook his head. “It’s okay. I actually have five more coffees to deliver.” Your frowned a little. “I’m kidding, Y/n. But I really do need to go.” 

You nodded, a little disappointed. “Okay. Thank you for the coffee, Ed. Really.” He smiled, stepping out of the doorway. “Take care.” 

He pulled the door closed. You sunk to the floor, still clutching the coffee in your hand. 

“I like him.” You said under your breath. Your thoughts started to process in your head. “Oh crap, I REALLY like him.” 

“There you are, talking about crap again. Just drink your coffee, love.”

You froze. You could feel the door opening slightly, making you stand up. Edmund’s head was sticking out of the hallway.

 “And no, I never left.” 

As he said those words, Edmund stepped into the room completely and placed his lips on yours.

He kissed you firmly, hands hovering over your waist. You instinctively placed your coffee cup on the counter. As you kissed, Edmund began to pull you closer to him. You had your arms wrapped tightly around his neck now, and you were leaning into the counter. 

The kiss became more passionate with every movement you made, and your lips were in perfect sync. Slowly, unwillingly, you broke the kiss for air. You and Edmund looked at each other for a second. Then, Edmund spoke.

 “If I had known this would happen, I would have bought you an entire coffee shop.”

Seokjin Scenario: Lonely Hearts Club.

The Costume Party Series

Genre: Fluff


Jin stared surprised at Yoongi’s back when the latter walked away from him with a deep frown furrowing his brows. Or well, not that surprised in fact. Yoongi pulled at his girlfriend’s forearm muffling what seemed like nonsense to Jin and left him alone with his thoughts. He knew this was going to happen, Yoongi wasn’t really feeling like going to the party and Jin was the one doing half of the convincing, but now he was alone and the rest of his friends were all scattered around.

Seokjin released a sigh and took in the sight of people chilling to the loud music and the drinks, but he didn’t really catch a glimpse of the boys so he walked calmly towards the stage, surfing between the moving bodies to a safer and maybe loner place if he was lucky enough. 

Actually, the one convincing him about coming here was Hoseok, who went away to park his car and seemed to be lost in the way because he never came back. Now standing at the opposite side of the crowded stage he felt somehow awkward, but tried to shrug that feeling away, not everything could be so bad right? 

He spotted a table and decided to pour himself a glass of soda and maybe grab some snacks. Once in front of the table he assessed his options and picked a few cookies, shoving one inside his mouth. After that, his hands instantly went for the Coca-Cola bottle but when he tried to open it, the cap was so hard he struggled. 

-You’re not getting away from this - he murmured under his breath kind of annoyed and pulled the Coca-Cola close to his torso, gripping the cap more firmly this time. He was oh so ready to fight that bottle and he was putting his heart to it, so deep into the task that when he moved a step forward due to the struggle and got closer the table, a little scream made him jump back, the Coca-Cola bottle fell noisily to the floor and he stared down. Peeking from underneath the table’s cloth was… a hand?

Seokjin was staring at it at a loss of words, the hand was lean and delicate and he had just stepped on it, but he didn’t have much time to think about it before that same hand got a good grip of the edge of the bright blue pants from his Super Mario costume and started to pull him down. 

-What the…- Jin had to kneel and was starting to freak out before a girl revealed her face from under the white cloth, her hand still with a deadly grip on Jin’s pants, her eyes were big whilst staring at him expectantly and her free hand was pressing her index finger against her lips motioning for Seokjin to be quiet.

You looked at him  and then back to the party’s crowd, freaking out for having to come out of your little hideout.

 -Please don’t scream- this time you grasped his arm. He stared at you, mouth hanging widely open and you ignored the aching of your hand to pull him towards you. -Come, come. Quickly!-

Your voice was all anxious and Jin stared back to the party, so you thought he was getting back to it. But he didn’t, and even if he thought you were being a total crazy, he followed you. You held the cloth up, enough for him to slid next to you under the table and take part inside your little hideout. You took the forgotten Coca-Cola bottle quickly and let the white cloth fall again, leaving you alone under the table with the handsome boy that had just stepped on your hand.

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Imagine John Winchester (your father) hits you... Dean and Sam react badly... [REVISED] PART 1

BAM! The motel door slammed behind you as you stormed into the house, depositing your gun and knives on the bed furthest from the wall. BAM! BAM! It slammed open and right back closed again. “(Y/N) Winchester, don’t you dare walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”

“Well I’m done talking to you!” you growled back under your breath as your father rounded the corner of the bed towards you.

“That was stupid, (Y/N)!” John Winchester, your drill seargent of a father, roared at you. His face was red and the veins in his neck were bulging beneath the skin. The hunt had gone wrong that night, as all great nights go, and the wendigo had almost gotten a hold of your dad. You had burst out from your hiding spot too early, taking a blow to the ribs from the beast. John had shot flares at it, but your bloody torso had needed taking care of. The wendigo ran off, lost in the woods once more.

“An ammature mistake!” John roared again, turning his back to you and stalking to the fridge for a beer. He popped the top and took several deep gulps, giving you time to protest.

“Yeah! A mistake! I said I’m sorry a million times! Jeesh, would you let it go?!”

Your father turned and began shouting again. “Let it go? Let it go?! Dean would have never made a mistake like that! Hell, Sam wouldn’t have made a mistake like that!”

“I’m not Dean or Sam!” you shrieked at him, throwing your hands down in front of you.

“Well maybe you should be!”

“I’m not and I’m not ever going to be!! I’m not a frickin’ soldier, Dad! You can’t do this to me! You’ve gotta let it go, let me go-”

That was it for John. With two strides, he was across the room and right in your face. Fear sparked in your belly and you attempted to push him away, but he grabbed your wrist in a death grip, sending chills up your spine and making your mouth dry. “DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I AM YOUR FATHER, YOUNG LADY AND I WILL DO WHAT I SEE FIT!”

By now your anger was completely replaced with fear, its icy tendrils wrapping around your lungs and making it hard to breathe. “D-Daddy, p-please let go-”

“I SAID YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I AM YOUR FATHER AND I WILL GRAB YOU IF I WANT TO!”

“DADDY!” you sobbed as his hold became unbearable, “PLEASE-”

SMACK!

The air left your lungs completely as the back of John’s hand impacted your cheek, making your head swing to the side and sting your skin. Eyes growing wide, you gasped and managed to shove John away, if not just because of his own shock. “(Y-Y/N)…” he stammered, jaw slack and beer bottle dropped to the floor, forgotten. “Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry-” he reached out towards you, and you backed away, clambering over the bed towards the door shrieking, “STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

“(Y/N), baby, I-”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” you screamed at him, opening the door and sliding through it before John could grab you again.

Out on the sidewalk of the motel, you ran. You ran and ran and ran, the fear-fueled adrenaline filling your veins and making your vision blur. You darted across the street, narrowly missed by a car crossing. The driver honked at you and yelled profuse curses, but you couldn’t hear him over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

After running for a solid ten minutes, you came to a panting, shaking stop in front of a sleazy diner. The door chimed as it opened, and you stumbled to sit in a seat in the farthest booth from the door. Your skin was clammy, your heart still racing and the adrenaline replaced by a terrible sting from both your wrist and cheek. The cuts on your side had stopped bleeding, but still hurt like a bitch. You felt ready to collapse into exhausted sobs, but pulled yourself together by the frays when a plump waitress walked over to her.

Her face was concerned, brows furrowed and bright red lips pursed. “Sweetheart, are you alright?” she asked gently, reaching down to touch the table in front of you. Despite yourself, you flinched.

“I-I’m f-f-fine,” you stammered, really not wanting the woman to go away.

The waitress, as if sensing your thoughts, hollared towards the kitchen. “Marty! Gimme a cup of cocoa!” She sat down in front of you and took your shaking hand. “Sweetheart, you’re shakin’ like a leaf!” she exclaimed, her voice taking a motherly tone that reminded you of Missouri. “Is there someone I can call for you, baby?”

When she said that name- baby- you flinched and withdrew your hand, pulling your knees into the seat and hugging them. You only then realized how small you were, even for a young teenager. “C-Can I call my brother?” you asked quietly, sniffling and rubbing at your eye. Your cheek was no longer stinging, but a low, thrumming throb had replaced the earlier sharp pain.

The waitress nodded, giving you a pitying smile that made your stomach churn. “Gimme one second and I’ll get you the phone, doll.”

It really was only a few seconds before the waitress returned, steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and phone in the other. It was a clunky plastic phone that looked archaic, but you could hardly care as you looked at the numbers through a murky vision. You had two options- Sam, or Dean. Sam was at Standford, and the last time you had spoken with him was a few months ago. Dean was off on a hunt with Caleb, probably out of cell range. You called him anyway, and it went straight to voice mail.

I don’t know how you got this number, but unless your last name is Winchester, don’t call again. BEEP.”

“D-Dean,” you stammered into the phone, tears flowing from you now that you were actually speaking. “Dee,” the helpless sob wracked your frame and you dropped your head to your knees. “I-I need you, D-Dee…”

BEEEEEEP.

The dial tone sounded, and you sobbed again, dialing a different number this time. After several rings, a groggy voice answered. It was, to your surprise, a woman.

Hello?” she asked, sounded partially annoyed but partially worried.

“H-Hi,” you mumbled meekly. “I-Is Sam there?”

Yeah, one second,” the woman mumbled. You heard shuffled in the background followed by, “Sam, baby, the phone.”

A groan resounded, and you felt a tiny giggle bubble up desbite yourself. That groan just sounded so much like Sam that you couldn’t help yourself. “'Ello?” came the familiar voice, and your tears returned anew.

“S-Sam,” you sobbed out, unable to help it.

Wha- (Y/N)? (Y/N), kiddo, is that you?”

“Sam,” you managed through the tears, “I- I need- I don’t-”

More rustling came across the line, and you could practically see Sam rolling himself out of bed, training kicking in as he threw on clothes and shoes. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

You were unable to answer, throat constricting around itself. The waitress that was hovering around you put a gentle hand on your shoulder, frowning at your flinch, and took the phone from you. “Hello?”

You didn’t hear Sam’s part, but you could barely hear the squat little waitress talking to him in hushed tones as you struggled not to hyperventilate. “Poor thing came in all in a flurry. She’s still shakin’ like a leaf… I dunno what happened, hon, but she’s got a nasty bruise on her cheek… No sir, she’s alone… 1616 Lan- huh? Oh, um, Mound House, Nevada. Where are you again, hon?… Oh, goodness, that’s a drive- No, no! It’s no problem, we’re open 24/7… Okay, honey, I’ll put you back on with her.”

(Y/N)?” came Sam again, and you felt a small warmth just from the sound of your big brother’s voice. “(Y/N), I’m comin’ to get you, kiddo, it’s only a four hour drive so I’ll be there soon- just stay there, alright? Stay with the waitress and I’ll be there really soon, okay kiddo? Just stay there and I’ll be there soon…”

“S-Sam,” you gasped out, tears running down your face freely.

It’s gonna be okay, kiddo, alright? I promise you, it’s gonna be okay.” There was a loud beep, and Sam coughed. “I’ve gotta hang up now and give Jess the phone back, but I’ll be there really soon, okay? I’ve got my cell phone and I’ll call you when I’m close-”

“D-Don’t got my phone,” you told him, and Sam cursed.

Does Dad have his? I’ll call him-”

“NO!” you exclaimed, and the waitress jumped. There was a frightening silence across the line before Sam spoke again.

(Y/N), did Dad… Did he hurt you?”

Having your night finally put into words, the dam finally broke. Sobs wracked your frame and you were unable to answer, snot and tears running down your face as you rubbed furiously, only aggravating the bruise on your cheek. The waitress took the phone back and talked to Sam again, although you couldn’t tell what they were saying. You could hardly even think, for that matter.

After a few minutes- or hours, time seemed to fly when your brain was trying to poud its way out of your skull- the waitress pulled you up to stand and took you to a little room in the back of the diner. And there you sat for the full four hours waiting on Sam. Every couple of minutes a head would poke in and offer you something- food, drink, a jacket- you declined every offer with a dull shake of your head. By now, you sobs had settled into soft hiccups and frail, shallow whimpers.

Hours, minutes, weeks, days. Time had no meaning to you as you sat there in the back room, knees drawn up to your chin, as you lolled back and forth, fighting sleep.

Finally, blessed finally, the door creaked open and a shaggy brown head popped in. Big, hazel eyes looked around the room for a minute before settling on you, and a broken voice muttered, “(Y/N)…”

Before you knew what was happening, your brother was around you, hugging you, kissing your forehead and nose, checking out the bruise on your cheek. He was whispering sweetly to you the whole time, placing his jacket around your shoulders and rubbing your arms warmly. You thought you had cried out all of your tears, but they began anew when Sam lifted you up into his arms, holding you like you weighed nothing. You nestled up close to him despite th pain it caused your scratches, gripping his hoodie tightly and burrowing your face in his shoulder. You heard the waitress- the oh-so-kind waitress- talking softly to him and felt her pat your shoulder.

“You make sure to take good care of her, young man.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

It was so like Sam to say that, to be so confident. You knew he couldn’t protect you, though. You would eventually have to go back to John- you were underage, after all- and then Sam would go back to Stanford, and you’d be alone once more.

You were set down in a car, the heat turned up on high and making it cozy despite the chilly sleet outside. “(Y/N)? Kiddo, please look at me, please.”

Sam sounded so broken that you had to look up, look deep into his hazel eyes. It was the first time you had actually sat up straight in nearly five hours, and your back popped painfully. Sam’s face softened even more when he saw the bright blue bruise that stretched from your cheekbone up towards your eye. “Oh, kiddo,” he whispered sadly, hugging you once more. “I’m not gonna let him ever lay a hand on you again, (Y/N),” Sam promised you. He kissed your forehead, resting his lips there as he spoke. “I swear to God, he’s never gonna touch you ever again.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt a warm blanket of safety rest over you. And you fell into a blissful, painless sleep…

The real story of how Denis joined Asking

Denis sat at the table, nervous. He was on a date, a blind date to be exact. His date still had yet to arrive, causing Denis to lose hope. He was about to gather his stuff and leave until he saw someone walk through the door.

It was Ben mother fucking Bruce.

Denis’ breathe caught in his throat, almost causing him to choke. Denis couldn’t believe Ben Bruce had just walked through the door. Like, what are the odds?

Ben’s eyes scanned the room until they landed on Denis. He smiled and Denis almost passed out. There was no way Ben Bruce was his date, he was probably smiling at someone else.

But Denis was proven wrong when Ben started to walk his way. Denis face was Probably as red as Satan’s ass at this point. He could barley breathe when Ben sat down across from him.

“Hi, I’m Ben.” He said.

It was probably the sexiest thing Denis ever heard. And all he did was introduced himself.

“D-Denis.” Denis replied, shakily.

“So, Denis tell me about yourself.” Ben said leaning forehead, setting his head on his hands.

“Uh, well I’m 23, I’m from the Ukraine-” Denis was cut off as a waiter approached them.

“Can I take you’re order?” He said with a horrible French accent that made Denis cringe.

“Yes, I’ll have the Ukrainian.” Ben said with a sly smirk as he stared at Denis’ reddening cheeks.

“Uh, Sir-” Ben cut him off.

“Sorry, I’ll have the chicken.” Ben said, giving out a fake cough.

“Uh, yes, yeah I’ll have that too.” Denis stumbled.

The waiter nodded and walked away.

“So, Ben tell me about yourself.” Denis said, blushing again.

Ben shook his head and started to tell stories about his life until the waiter brought out their food.

“So, what’s your opinion on asking?” Ben asked.

Ben had told Denis about his crazy stories with asking. Denis already knew all these stories. Not that he would admit it, but he was a creepy fucking fangirl stalker. He was always a slut for Asking.

“I love your band, I’ve been a fan for years, I even covered songs on YouTube and…” Denis stopped as Ben stood up dropping his fork.

Ben got out his bright pink purse, that He literally pulled out of no where. He started to shove the bread sticks that sat in the middle of the table into it.

“We need to leave immediately and make you part of the band right now.” He said, rushed.

Denis eyes widened as Ben grabbed his hand and started to drag him out of the restaurant.

—–
Inspired by that one bread stick post about Ben and Denis

Written by - champagnee-wishes

The Fourth of July

Fireworks and explosions were a couple of Persephone’s favorite things. Most people only liked the fireworks because they were pretty when they blasted colors into the sky, but Persephone loved feeling the boom echo through her body. She was more than excited about the block party that was happening for the holiday and she began getting ready long before it would be time to go. 

As she dressed herself festively and put on her makeup, she wondered if Lexi would be there. Part of her wanted to text the girl and ask her if she would be her date for the party, but she settled for hoping that she would run into Lexi at the party and they would stay together for the rest of their time there. She put the finishing touches on her makeup and applied some very bright red lipstick. Pursing her lips together and rubbing the lipstick in just a bit more, Persephone checked herself over once more before walking out the door. She felt better than she had in months now that she had the proper nutrition that she required and had started getting more active. Lying in bed all day had really taken a toll on her personal hygiene routine, but she’d fixed that pretty quickly.

She spun around in her dress and let the skirt twirl out like the petals of a flower. Her dress was short and her heels were high, making her legs look even longer than they actually were. Her skin had more of a pale, iridescent glow to it, looking more pearly than the sickly shade of grey that it had been when she was sick. The shine had returned to her hair and she walked with an air of confidence again. 

As she came to the block party, she stared at all the people that were crowding the street and made her way into the crowd. She looked for Lexi in every face she saw, but she also looked for other friends and familiar faces. Persephone also made a note to find Jacob and Olivia and thank them for inviting her to the party. If it weren’t for her being included, she might have spent the holiday in her apartment alone, but it felt good to be accepted and made her feel like maybe Cameron was right when he said she wasn’t alone. Maybe there were people here who cared about her.